Unmarked
by Sarah d'Emeraude
Summary: "Daryl?" The hunter blinks, once, then twice. He looks up at Paul, realizing with horror that he stopped moving, and is now sitting back on his heels, dick softening quickly between his thighs. He didn't feel himself stopping his movements or leaving Paul's body, nor did he realized that his lover had turned around and is currently looking at him with worry. "I'm sorry"


**Hello!**  
 **Well, guess I couldn't stop thinking of this and yeah, I gotta say, I love clueless!Paul.**

 **I really think that no matter how strong Daryl Dixon is, he must have his demons anyway. And sex is the best way to bare yourself to someone, and this is the best time for said demons to come back. So, yes, be careful, I don't wanna trigger anyone!**

 **Also, all mistakes are mine. I tried writing in present tense for the first time (I think it is present tense, I'm a bit confused with grammar in both French and English so I might be wrong about this, too) and I hope it's not too horrible.**

 **Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this anyway! xx**

* * *

As he pushes inside of his lover one more time, making Paul groan his pleasure in the pillow, Daryl let his thoughts wander. He knows it isn't fair to the scout, and he truly enjoys sex with him, but he isn't really into it this night. But Paul had started worrying about him, he knew that because he had seen the young man frown several times (six to be exact) during the evening when looking at him; and he had to distract him from asking questions that would make his skin crawl.

So he had pushed Paul against the bed with ease, his lover pliant and willing between his hands, and they were currently making love on said bed. Paul is perfect, like always, tight and warm and so damn noisy, but Daryl is just… distracted. Not even the perfect pressure on his dick can keep him from his dark thoughts these days, and he hates himself a little bit more for that. But he is pretty good at hiding it, he realizes with pride, when Paul all but sobs in the pillow when his dick is pressed against the scout's prostate.

Sometimes, Daryl is almost afraid of his feelings for the younger man. Probably because he loves him so much that it hurt inside his chest when he thinks about it, and when they are intimate like tonight, he can't have enough of him. Of his scent, his noises, his skin, his kisses. It hurts even more to think about the fact that even his feelings and Paul's utter perfection at everything he does can't make him feel any better.

"Daryl?"

The hunter blinks, once, then twice. He looks up at Paul, realizing with horror that he stopped moving, and is now sitting back on his heels, dick softening quickly between his thighs. He didn't feel himself stopping his movements or leaving Paul's body, nor did he realized that his lover had turned around and is currently looking at him with worry.

"I'm sorry" he blurts out almost immediately, eyes falling on the bed before him.

He wants to disappear, he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He closes his eyes, waiting for his boyfriend to get mad at him and ask him what the fuck is wrong with him or his dick. After all, he can't blame him. No one is dumb enough to refuse Paul his pleasure, or incapable of staying hard in bed with a man like that. He is a piece of shit, and he knows it.

"Daryl, it's okay" whispers the younger man, his soft hands cupping the hunter's face softly.

What?

"It's okay, I'm sorry I pushed you to do this."  
"What?" Daryl finally asks, eyes opening, searching Paul's.  
"I knew you were troubled" replies the scout, a small worried frown on his perfect face. "And I still let you take me to bed. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry Daryl."  
"It's not yer fault" insists the older man, bowing his face to press it against his lover's palms. "Something's wrong with me, not you."

Paul kisses the corner of his lips, thumbs slowly tracing the shape of his jaw.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Daryl." He punctuates his words with another kiss, before whispering "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"  
Daryl's negative nod is almost violent this time, and he pushes his lover away carefully, putting distance between their bodies. Paul looks a little taken aback, and hurt, too. But he shakes the suffocating feeling away, smiling at the hunter.

"We can just go to sleep, Daryl. It's late, anyway."

Daryl does not reply, and his lover gets out of bed to go to the bathroom. He knows he is probably going to shower, erasing any traces of lube between his ass cheeks, and the hunter feels even more like an asshole. For the first time since they had started having sex together, he did not make Paul come. Paul, who trusts him with his body and heart, all for this. He glares at his now soft dick between his strong thighs and resists the urge to cry, slipping under the cover almost immediately.

When Paul came back, fresh and ready to go to sleep after his shower, he found his lover facing the wall and pretending to be already asleep. He did not comment on the fact that Daryl had taken his side of the bed, the hunter usually preferring the door to the wall, and fought the urge to roll against him and enjoy his warmth. For the first time in a while, Daryl does not slept wrapped around his lover that night.

—

It's a sharp noise that jumps Daryl awake a few hours later. Sitting on the bed in no time, it takes him a full ten seconds to identify his environment and the provenance of the repetitive noise.

"Paul?" he groans, voice heavy with sleep and confusion. Paul is most certainly having a nightmare, judging by the way he trashes under the covers with a frown deforming his always so soft features. He is whimpering incomprehensible words, head trashing from side to side, and Daryl does not hesitate any further. He puts a hand against Paul's cheek, trying to reassure his lover, and grabs his arm firmly with the other.

He doesn't think twice about what he does. Thinking about it later on, he realizes that the contact had been way too violent for someone easily triggered like Paul. It is why, a few seconds later, Daryl finds himself pressed back against the bed, his lover looming over him menacingly. His hand and entire arm is twisted painfully in his back, his face held down against the pillow and Paul's knee is digging painfully in his lower back.

"Paul, it's me" he manages to whisper, groaning when the pressure on his arm tightens. "It's me, Daryl."

A beat. Two. He feels more than he sees Paul realizing where he is, and the scout lets out a loud gasp when he sees who is held down beneath him.

"Daryl?"

The weight on his back is now gone, and the hunter doesn't need to turn around to see how mortified his lover must be. But he stays on his belly, face pressing against the pillow and hips clenched tight against the mattress. He knows his behavior is eventually going to worry his lover, but he can't turn around. Not yet.

"Daryl? Oh my god, Daryl, please tell me you're okay."

Paul grabs him by the shoulders, forcing him to roll over and face him. He is probably as flushed as the scout, but Paul's eyes are scanning his face and torso and it distracts him from the thought.

"I'm fine, Paul, I'm fine."

He tries to push him away, uneasy, but the younger man is having none of it. He grabs the hunter's hands, pushing them against the bed, allowing him to take a better look at his entire body.

"Are you sure? I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened to me, I just…"  
"Paul, I'm fine, I swear!"  
"Well at least let me check, please!"

He does not wait for the answer, throwing his right leg over his lover's body to hold him against the bed with his hips as well, flushing them down against Daryl's, blocking further movements from the older man.

Which makes them both freeze instantly.

"Daryl?" asks the younger man, clearly confused.

The hunter whines, cheeks flushed red as embarrassment starts creeping up his entire body. He tries to move again, which only makes him press harder against Paul's ass. He moans, his steel hard dick fitting perfectly between Paul's covered cheeks, and blushes even harder.

"Let me go" he begs, a little more breathless than he would have liked.  
"I don't think I will" replies the scout, slowly but surely realizing what is happening beneath him.  
"Paul, let me go!"

His tone is hard but still pleading, and Paul's grip tightens on his wrist, pushing him back against the bed when he tries to get away once more.

"Wait, you're enjoying this" mutters the scout, almost for himself, eyes wide and curious. "You're enjoying me holding you down like that."

Daryl wants to cry. He is pretty sure that he is in fact going to cry, if Paul doesn't free him very soon. His dick is betraying him, pulsing against Paul and harder than ever. He never wanted his lover to know how fucked up he is, and he had never meant to be betrayed by his own body like that. His face is red, redder than it had ever been before, and he sobs out loud when he realizes that Paul isn't gonna let it go and ignore what is happening.

Through his entire life, Daryl had noticed some pretty fucked up things about himself. He had learned to live with them, and learned to control them, to a certain point. He couldn't help but burn himself with his cigarettes sometimes, feeling guilty when the feeling of freedom and deep pleasure took over the burn with the fact that he was inflicting this to himself now, and not letting anyone hurt him anymore, but that was it. He had never given a second thought about his other needs or crazy fantasies, before Paul. He knows that somehow, what had happened with his dad had fucked something up inside of him. He did not enjoy being beaten up with his father's belt, God no. But he did found a sick fascination in the feeling of depending on someone else he truly trusted, and had realized pretty early how he directly linked it to his pleasure. So when he had seen Paul training a few people at Hilltop, pushing them against the floor with ease in a few ninja like movements, he had recognized the sick feeling rising inside of him. He had pushed it away like always, acting like the man Paul wanted him to be -taking the younger man against diverse surface to fuck him hard and good, Paul screaming his pleasure, and wishing the younger man could do just the same with him.

Not that he wanted to bottom during sexual intercourse, no, he wasn't ready for that yet. But he dreamed of Paul's arms holding him down, forcing him to just lay back and enjoy the act without being able to touch him through the entire thing. He wanted Paul's hands on his ass, pushing him to go deeper and harder inside of him in the way that he wanted, and for his pleasure only. He wanted Paul to be the one spooning him at night, after the act. He wanted Paul to kiss his breath away, he wanted him to put his hands against his neck without pushing to cut the air but just to give him the knowledge that he is in control, and could just choke him in an instant. He wanted Paul to take care of didn't want the act to turn into something violent, full of pain, or involving weird bdsm fantasies. But sometimes, he just wanted to rely on Paul, to be the one comforted by this strong fighter that his lover was and stop being so damn strong all the time. He wanted Paul to take the lead, to rip the pleasure out of his body and cuddle him afterwards.

But he can't say that out loud. Because his lover is gonna laugh at him, the entire world is gonna laugh at him. He'll probably hear his father's laugh, too, coupled with his brother's. He's a Dixon, and he doesn't have any weakness. But in his relationship with Paul, his perfection and the way he makes his heart ache in his chest… sometimes he wishes that he could just spit it all out and let him be the strong one for both of them, hidden from their family and friends. He wishes he could be Daryl, just Daryl. The man who's in love with Paul Rovia, the one who lost his virginity to the Hilltop's scout and who admitted between gasps and moans that he never felt safe enough anywhere else than in his lover's arms.

So he stops fighting, stop trying to get Paul to let him go and feels a single tear roll down his cheek. He closes his eyes, feeling humiliated for the first time in a long while, and sobs like an helpless child.

"Daryl, no, no baby, don't cry"

Paul let go of his wrists immediately, patting his cheeks shyly. He can feel his lover's breath against his lips, and knows that Paul must be completely clueless about the entire situation.

"I'm so sorry Daryl" is voice his tight, and he sounds ready to cry. "I'm so sorry, I thought… I thought you were enjoying this, I was wrong, oh baby I'm so sorry."  
Usually, the pet name makes him flush all the way down to his toes, although he'll never admit that he likes it. This time, it makes him blink his eyes open, focusing on Paul's baby blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, Daryl, please forgive me" the scout whispers again, eyes shiny with unleashed tears.  
"Ain't nothing to be sorry for" finally rasps the older man, grabbing one of Paul's shaky hand.  
"I pushed it, Daryl, I thought you wanted it…"  
"I did" he cuts him, full of shame. "I do. Want it."

There is a pregnant pause between them after that, and Paul blinks a few times. He is clearly confused, trying to put things together. Between Daryl's body reaction and his tears, he knows it isn't easy to see clearly.

"I don't understand" he finally admits, hand caressing Daryl's right brow.  
"I want it" Daryl whispers. "I want you… I want you to hold me down like that. I want you to be rough, I want…" he sobs again "I'm fucking sick, Paul, I'm…"  
"No, baby, don't!" he leans back, pushing his lips against Daryl's. The kiss is not rough, but it's not soft either. They stay like that for a few moments, before slowly breaking the contact.  
"You're not sick, Daryl. I understand, okay? I understand." whispers the scout, his hands petting Daryl's hair. "But why didn't you tell me that? Before yesterday night, before now?"

Daryl's almost tempted to look away, but he doesn't. Not now.

"I was ashamed" he admits. "I ain't supposed to want this. I ain't supposed to be weak. I can't be weak. You needed me to be this way."

Paul's lower lip shivers, and he shakes his head with a frown.

"No, I needed you to feel good, Daryl" mutters the young man. His hand is still in his hair now. "You should have told me that you didn't like what we were doing."

He looks ashamed of himself, too. And Daryl feels himself lose it at the sight, because he won't take any of that.

"I did enjoy it, Paul. I enjoyed all of it, I swear. I just… It's been… It happens, sometimes, to me." he babbles, chewing on his lower lip nervously. "I don't know why, ya know? It just… happens."  
"You need to tell me, when it happens" insists Paul. "Yesterday night, it was because of that, right?"

Daryl nods.

"You need to talk to me, Daryl. About everything, but especially when it comes to the both of us. I can't guess when I'm going the wrong way, alright? I just supposed you loved dominating me as much as I did, and here we are."  
"But I did enjoy it" whines the hunter, shaking his head. "I swear I never lied to you, Paul. I love it, I really do. But sometimes, like yesterday night… I just wish someone could take care of me, you know?"

And with these words, Paul's face soften suddenly, while Daryl's flush red.

"Damn selfless lover" he whispers, kissing Daryl with a smile. "Yes, I know. And I promise I'm gonna take care of you, Daryl Dixon."

He caresses his lover's jaw and neck, pushing his lips against Daryl's one more time. Daryl sighs, closing his eyes, and Paul's breath is hot against his mouth when he speaks again.

"You don't have to be that strong and selfless man all the time with me, Daryl. You can be yourself, and I'm never, never gonna judge you for this." He stops, biting his jaw. "because that's what lovers are for, baby. You can lower your mask with me. Promise me, Daryl."

The hunter sighs, but nods.

"Okay. Okay, I promise."

He feels strangely relieved, after that. And the way Paul kisses his jaw, tenderly but firmly, makes him moan.

"You need to tell me what you need, and when you need it" says Paul again, his hands running down Daryl's chest to tease the tip of his cock trapped between their bodies. "I want you to feel good, I want us to feel good together."  
"Yes" whispers Daryl, moaning out loud when Paul moves enough to allow him to grab his erected cock, and caresses it slowly.  
"What do you need, Daryl?" ask Paul again, and this time he looks at his lover in the eyes, determined.

Daryl does not even think about lying. He just stares for a few seconds, unsure. What does he really want? What does he needs, right now? Paul is ready to give him anything, but is he really ready to let himself go completely?

"Hold me down" he blurts out, cheeks red. "Please?"

He's not ready for more, yet. He knows it will take time for him to let go completely and trust Paul enough with his body -even though he trusts him with his life already. But Paul looks satisfied with his answers, because he slips on him again, guiding Daryl's hard cock inside of his body with ease. Daryl moans, Paul being still lubbed from hours before but tight as hell around his cock, and he closes his eyes.

"Tell me if anything is too much, okay?" asks Paul again.

He's a little flushed, and breathless, too. He's so beautiful like this. Daryl nods, and it is all it takes for Paul to start moving, pushing Daryl's arms against the bed and trapping him with his entire body until he can't move anything but his feet and legs. The hunter lets out a strangled moan, closing his eyes, and Paul starts moving faster. Daryl does feel trapped, under Paul's weight and his hands holding him down on the bed. But it feels so good, that he moans even louder, cries echoing in the empty trailer.

The thing is, it has been years since Daryl let himself go and enjoyed things without being too preoccupied with others, about their safety, their pleasure, their simple happiness. In some part of his mind, he knows that he should care about Paul and his pleasure in this act, but for once, he shuts this little voice away. He needs this, and Paul agreed to it.

When he opens his eyes again, he almost comes on the spot. Paul is looming over him, muscles of his torso and arms twitching and mouth open, his eyes glassy with pleasure. Daryl almost want to switch their positions, but it feels too good this way. His cock is hard as rock inside of his lover, and he knows he won't last long. It only takes a few sharp movements from his lover and Daryl is coming, arching against his lover's hold and crying out loudly.

He's louder than he's ever been in bed, and he doesn't even feel bad about that. Coming inside of Paul feels like a liberation, and the weight he's had over his shoulders in the last few days vanishes instantly. He knows his eyes are teary and he's at the verge of crying, too, and he distantly feels Paul jerking off until his hot and sticky come lands on his still twitching belly.

"Are you okay baby?" asks Paul after a full minute of silence, now lying on the bed next to him.

Daryl feels like dozing off like a baby, now.

"Humm" he groans, putting a hand on his lover's hip to stick their bodies together, and he knows the scout is smiling.  
"Glad to hear that" the younger man teases.

He doesn't push further, though, and Daryl drifts into sleep with a mind put at ease for the first time in way too long.


End file.
